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    I Don’t Work Here Is Lost In Translation

    | Midlands, England, UK | Bad Behavior, Bigotry

    (I work in a department store, but am not employed by that company so I can’t handle their furniture or answer questions about it either. To help customers realise there is a difference, I tend to wear coloured clothes as the host store staff can only wear black. I’m currently cleaning a selection of finishes and the customer beckons me over.)

    Customer: “Thank god we found someone. Now, we want something that is full wood. Nothing veneered and nothing of this chipboard rubbish. Do you have any?”

    Me: “My company doesn’t do full wood pieces, only veneers. If you find any of the ladies or gents in black who are in charge of [Host Store]‘s stock, they’ll be able to help you. I’m a rep from a different company so I don’t know their stock.”

    Customer: “No.” *starts to slow her speech down* “Do you have any full wood pieces?”

    Me: “Like I said, I don’t, but if you find one of the ladies or gents in black they may have some.”

    Customer: *slowing down to the pace you’d use to teach babies new words now* “Dooo yoooou haaaave aaaanny fuuuuull woooooood piiiiieeeces?”

    Me: “No. As I’ve said, my company doesn’t but [Host Store] may do.”

    Customer: “You really don’t understand what I’m saying and you sound foreign!”

    Me: “Eigentlich bin ich aus Deutschland, aber ich war in England angehoben. Ich versichere Ihnen, ich verstehe dich, aber ich kann nicht sagen, das Gefühl.” *actually I am from Germany, but I was raised in England. I assure you I understand you, but I can’t say the feeling is mutual*

    (With that the customer storms off and I see her repeating the whole thing again to one of the Host Store people.)

    Un-American Idiots

    | Italy | Bizarre, Musical Mayhem

    (I work at a pretty popular furniture store. A girl and her friend come in. After looking around for a bit and giggling to themselves, the girls come up to me.)

    Girl #1: “Hi. Yeah… we… like… we wanted to know… do you guys sell band members here?”

    Me: “Sorry, what?”

    Girl #1: “Yeah! Band members! Like, you know, people who are in bands and play music?”

    Me: “Oh! No, we don’t really sell band posters, sorry.”

    Girl #1: “No! Not posters! We want band members!”

    Me: “What? You mean you want me to sell you the actual band members? As in the actual people who play in the band?”

    Both Girls: “Yeah!”

    Me: “I’m sorry… I don’t think we have any in stock, and we’re probably not going to get some anytime soon. Actually, I think no store will have what you’re looking for, girls.”

    Girl #1: “Aw, really?”

    Girl #2: “Come on… Are you sure? Not even clones?”

    Me: “Yeah, I think the most you will find will be posters and band merchandise. With pictures of them, maybe, but not the actual people. I’m very sorry.”

    Both Girls: “Aw… it’s okay; sorry for bothering you.”

    (As they walk away, I overhear them talking.)

    Girl #2: “Aw, I really wanted a Billie Joe Armstrong.”

    Girl #1: “Yeah… I guess our best bet is asking Adrienne if she’s willing to share.”

    Girl #2: “Yep, we should do it. I mean, it’s like… It’s not like I want to marry him or something. I just want to be his friend. and cuddle with him, and pet his hair. Don’t forget about petting his hair.”

    Girl #1: “Same here! Hmm, you know what this means, right?”

    Girl #2: “Yeah. Let’s ask her on both Twitter and Instagram until she finally answers.”

    (My manager has heard everything, and comes over to me laughing. We’re both huge Green Day fans.)

    Manager: “Oh, God… Were they… really?

    Me: “Yeah.”

    (My manager starts singing to the tune of the chorus of the song “Stray Heart”.)

    Manager: “Everything that they want, they want from him, but they just can’t have him. Everything that they need, they need from therapy, but they won’t realize it.”

    The Cat Is Out Of The Bag

    | USA | Crazy Requests, Pets & Animals

    (A customer is buying furniture to be delivered and assembled by our tech.)

    Customer: “I have cats, so whoever you send over must not be allergic.”

    Me: “No problem, ma’am.”

    Customer: “Make sure he’s a vegetarian, too.”

    Me: “Um…”

    Customer: “He has to have brown hair, and an earring, but no tattoos. He needs to be good at sports.”

    Me: “I don’t think we can do all that.”

    Customer: “He needs to know a language other than English.”

    Me: “You’re just kidding, right?”

    Customer: “Yes. Just stick with the no cat allergy request.”

    Me: “Alright then.”

    Put This Con To Bed

    | WA, Australia | Family & Kids, Liars & Scammers, Wild & Unruly

    Customer: “I am looking for some cheap beds for my sons.”

    (I look at the two boys the customer has brought with her. One is about 6 years old and very slim, while the other is approximately 13 and massive.)

    Me: “Well, for the little one we have this model…”

    (I show her the cheapest mesh base in the store.)

    Me: “…and for the older boy, we have this model.”

    (I show her a heavy duty reinforced model that is $60 more.)

    Customer: “No, I will take two of the cheaper beds, thanks.”

    Me: “The cheaper model will not stand up to any punishment from the older child.”

    Customer: “No, he isn’t mine. My other son is with a friend and he is about the same size as the little fella.” *points to the slim 6 year old*

    Me: “Okay, but if this is for the older child, we won’t fix any damage he does and won’t refund or replace it.”

    Customer: “Are you calling me a liar?”

    Me: “No, I just want you to be aware that it’s not designed for older children.”

    Customer: “Well, it won’t be for an older kid, you idiot.”

    (I take the customer to counter with receipt and warn the manager of her after she departs. Two days later, the customer returns with a broken bed and the two same boys.)

    Customer: “I got this bed two days ago and one is already broken.”

    Me: “Did the older kid jump on it?”

    Customer: “No, you bloody idiot! I told you it wasn’t for him.”

    Me: “Okay then, just go to the front counter and they will arrange a refund.”

    (The customer walks from the warehouse to the front desk. Meanwhile, I talk to the 6-year-old son.)

    Me: *to the 6 year old* “Did your big brother jump on the bed?”

    6-year-old Son: “Yeah, he cracked a sad, jumped on his bed, threw it against the wall and broke it. Now mum has to get a new one so she brought it back.”

    (I walk to the front counter and tell the administration staff to cancel the order.)

    Me: *to the customer* “Please come and collect your broken bed from the warehouse.”

    Customer: “Why the h*** do I want the broken bed back? I came here for a refund!”

    Me: “Luckily, your son is more honest than you are. He told me the truth about the bed, and we aren’t a disposal service for other people’s rubbish.”

    Customer: “F*** you!”

    Me: “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

    A Bit Carefree With The Free Care

    | Edmonton, AB, Canada | Family & Kids, Top

    (I work in the play area at a popular furniture store. Parents are allowed to drop their children off for one hour, provided they sign an information form stating all their information, and that the person signing them in will be the person signing them out. A lady comes up to me with her children.)

    Me: “Hi, ma’am, welcome to [furniture store].”

    Customer: *grunts and shoves form at me*

    Me: “As you are the person who signed this, you will be the only one able to sign your children out. You have one hour for which you have to remain in the store. Here is your pager which we will page when your time is up.”

    Customer: “Yeah, I get it, okay!”

    (The customer then walks off before I can even get her children in the door. Three hours go by, and she doesn’t return, which is far beyond her allotted one hour. We have paged her, sent overhead pages throughout the store, and phoned her cellphone number over twenty times and left numerous voicemails. After contacting the police, we phone her one more time; she finally she picks up.)

    Customer: “Hello?”

    Me: “Ma’am, where have you been? You’re children are still here and we have been unable to contact you.”

    Customer: “Well, I went to work.”

    Me: “Ma’am, this is NOT a daycare service. We informed you that you had one hour.”

    Customer: “The man said I could leave them there for as long as I want!”

    Me: “Ma’am, there are only women working here and I was the one who signed you in. I can assure you, no man said you could abandon your children here.”

    Customer: “No, the man walking around in the store!”

    Me: “So, you asked a random man if you could abandon your children here?”

    Customer: “Yes! So, I can get my mom to come pick them up?”

    Me: “Sorry, but the person who signed them in is the only one who can sign them out.”

    Customer: “WHAT THE H***?! What the f*** is wrong with you people?! I’m at work trying to make a living!”"

    Me: “Ma’am, we are trying to protect your children from being picked up by strangers. If you don’t get here within 15 minutes, I’m calling child social services.”

    (She showed up in 5.)


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